


the way that you tucker (in the pit of the day)

by fruitglass



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, let me reiterate just in case: platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 19:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14858630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitglass/pseuds/fruitglass
Summary: Donghyuck swallowed, throat a little tight all of a sudden, and he looked away from the sincerity in Johnny’s eyes. There he was again – being all considerate.





	the way that you tucker (in the pit of the day)

Donghyuck was exhausted; body so numb and brain so hazy with fatigue that he fumbled with his keys four times in a row before dropping them on the doormat. They landed with a muted metallic clang, a firecracker in the late night silence of the hallway, and frustration rose thick in Donghyuck’s throat – he almost felt like crying. His fingers shook as he picked them up, tendons quivering like plucked guitar strings.

When he finally got the door unlocked he almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to get inside. He kicked his shoes off, left them in a messy pile in the entryway, and sighed, a big gusty breath that sent dust particles dancing around his head like tiny fairies. The dorm was dead quiet, all the lights off except the lamp by the sofa, spreading warm light, soft and subdued, across the floor and over his feet. He blinked down at his socks – they were odd, one pink, one red, and he hadn’t noticed all day.

Somewhere downstairs, a door clicked open and Donghyuck listened to the quiet creak of someone coming up the staircase. Johnny appeared, peering round the corner. He looked sleep rumpled and soft, hair sticking up in sweet cowlicks. He had pillow imprints on his cheek, dusky pink against the soft honey of his skin.

“Oh,” He said, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Welcome back.” 

“Hi hyung,” Donghyuck said, shrugging his backpack off and leaving it under the coatrack. “Did I wake you up?”

“Nah.” Johnny padded over, ruffled Donghyuck’s hair as he brushed past towards the kitchen. He flipped the light switch and the bulb flickered once, twice, before it lit the room up, bright enough to sting Donghyuck’s weary eyes. He blinked against it, nose scrunched up. “I didn’t really mean to fall asleep. I’m meant to be skyping my mum soon.”

Donghyuck followed him into the kitchen, slumped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table as Johnny filled the kettle at the sink. The rush of water was stark in the quiet, rumbling and clanking through the pipes underfoot. “Isn’t it really early in America?” He asked, stifling a yawn. His jaw creaked with it.

Johnny hummed. “Like 8am or something? She doesn’t have work today so it’s fine.” He reached for a mug from the shelf and then paused, looked at Donghyuck. His eyes were still a little puffy from sleep. “Do you want hot chocolate?”

“Oh,” Donghyuck said and then smiled, sweet and heart shaped. A little flicker of warmth lit in his heart – Johnny was always like this: considerate. It was nice. “Yes please, hyung.”

Johnny laughed softly, his shoulders rising and falling with it, the soft swell of the ocean. He took Donghyuck’s favourite mug from the shelf – ‘World’s Best Brother’ it read; a joke gift from Jisung two years ago that Donghyuck loved maybe a little too much. It was cute, he thought. He liked it. He felt, sometimes, like Jisung could almost be his brother – he saw him more often than he saw his actual siblings, that much was for sure.

His heart tugged a little at the thought, his little brothers and his sister and his mum and his dad and _home_ , and he squeezed his eyes shut, focused on the noises of Johnny making their drinks instead – the water boiling in the kettle, the muted click of the fridge door opening and closing, metal against ceramic. The rest of the house was still silent even though Donghyuck knew most everyone was home – the only people still out were Jaehyun and Yuta. Donghyuck had left them lying spread-eagled on the floor of the practice room, panting under the air conditioner. Most nights he’d still be with them, but today—he’d landed a spin a little funny and his ankle had started twinging. Not bad, not quite painful, but like the foreshadowing of pain – uncomfortable, tendons tugged a little taut around his bones. Like shoelaces tied too tight.

“Hey,” Johnny said, voice soft, and Donghyuck jolted. He hadn’t realised he’d been dozing off and he blinked up at Johnny with bleary eyes. His head felt hazy, thick fog rolling in over his brain and behind his eyes. “No falling asleep at the table, kiddo. That’s what beds are for.”

“Sorry hyung.” Donghyuck sat up and a great yawn racked through him. His body shivered a little, and Johnny reached out to smooth his hair.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” He said, and pressed Donghyuck’s mug into his hands. Donghyuck inhaled – the rich, sweet smell of hot chocolate was cosy and comforting, redolent of winters at home; his mother kissing his forehead, the sweet spiced scent of cinnamon. It made him even sleepier than he was already. “Drink up and then get to bed, okay? You’ve been working real hard lately.”

Donghyuck hummed. He watched the steam rise from his mug, curling up through the air in lazy spirals. “I guess so.” He didn’t really reckon he had. The same amount as the others for the most part, but Johnny frowned a little as he sat opposite him. 

“Hey now,” He said, fingers curled round his own mug. Coffee, Donghyuck was pretty sure, even this late in the evening. “You’ve been working harder than any of us, you know? You’re doing a good job.”

Donghyuck swallowed, throat a little tight all of a sudden, and he looked away from the sincerity in Johnny’s eyes. There he was again – being all considerate. Donghyuck felt kind of awkward, put on the spot, and he didn’t know how to respond in a way that wasn’t kinda self-depreciating. Instead, he forced out a laugh and knocked his foot against Johnny’s under the table. “Thanks, Dad.”

Johnny laughed, kicked back at Donghyuck under the table, but there was this curious curve to his smile – concern tucked away into the corners of his mouth and the delicate slope of his eyebrows. “I’m serious,” He said, his ankle pressed against Donghyuck’s. “Take care of yourself, okay? I know you haven’t been sleeping much.” 

Donghyuck swallowed again, curled his fingers tight around his mug. He watched the curve and movement of each knuckle, the bones under his skin. “Okay, hyung,” He said and his voice came out small. “I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” He said, and maybe it was just because he was tired, because he’d been working real hard to keep up with everyone else, because his ankle was aching and his heart was hurting, but all of a sudden his eyes were stinging and his bottom lip was wobbling. He ducked his head down, tugged his hands into his lap and curled them into fists against his thighs. His fingernails bit into the tender skin of his palms.

Johnny made a soft, startled noise across from him. “Oh,” He said. “Oh, no, Hyuck, what’s wrong?” He stood, his chair scraping unpleasantly against the floor as he came round the table to crouch next to Donghyuck. He wrapped an arm around Donghyuck’s shoulders, warm, solid, safe, and Donghyuck leaned into him.

“Sorry,” He said. He sniffled a couple times, squeezed his eyes shut against the saltwater burning at his tear ducts. “Sorry.”

Johnny stroked the soft hair at the nape of Donghyuck’s neck, so gentle it made Donghyuck’s heart ache even more. “Oh, kid.” His voice was quiet, sad, and he tugged Donghyuck into a hug. Donghyuck pressed his face into Johnny’s neck, tangled his fingers into the fabric of Johnny’s jumper – soft, worn from years of use. He smelt like warm wool, cosy and familiar like a mid-afternoon nap. “Don’t cry now, come on.”

“Sorry,” Donghyuck said again, voice muffled. Johnny curled his other arm around Donghyuck’s waist, stroked his hand up and down the hills and valleys of Donghyuck’s spine as though he were a tiny kitten. “I’m just—I don’t know why I’m upset.”

“It’s okay,” Johnny soothed. “It’s really fine. Sometimes it just gets a little much, huh?”

Donghyuck breathed out, a shaky little sigh. “Yeah,” He whispered into the sleep warm skin of Johnny’s neck. He clung on tight and they stayed like that, Johnny hushing and soothing Donghyuck as his breath hitched and his eyes watered. Donghyuck felt like a little kid – like he was a toddler all over again clinging onto his dad after he’d grazed a knee. He could almost feel the burn of broken skin, the heat of his own blood.

“You okay now?” Johnny asked when Donghyuck had finally stopped hiccupping wetly into his skin, the ache of his heart dulled like a day old bruise. He pulled back, looked Donghyuck over with concern clear in the angles of his face; his mouth, his eyes, his brows. Donghyuck scrubbed a hand over his face. His eyes were hot from crying, the skin of his cheeks stung. 

“I’m okay,” He said, ducking away. He felt embarrassed now and it burned at his cheeks and through his veins, prickling uncomfortably under his skin. “Sorry, hyung.”

Johnny sighed. “It’s really okay, Hyuck.” He smoothed a hand over Donghyuck’s hair, curled it around the nape of his neck. The pads of his fingers were warm, fit sweetly into the divots of Donghyuck’s spine. “You don’t have to keep apologising. It happens to all of us sometimes.”

Donghyuck’s eyes flickered up, just for a moment. “Even you, hyung?” He asked. 

“Oh, for sure,” Johnny said. “Sometimes I get all burnt out and I get homesick and I miss my mum. Sometimes I just wanna nap for, like, 17 hours.”

Donghyuck laughed, watery. “That sounds really good right about now.”

“Right?” Johnny smiled at him, soft. “Sleep always helps.” He stood then, stretching with a great yawn. “Speaking of, I think it’s past your bed time, kiddo. Finish up your hot choc and then get to bed, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” Donghyuck said, and then paused, awkward. He curled his fingers into the thick fabric of his sweatpants, looked up, away, up again. “Could you—” He stopped, flushed a little over his cheekbones. Johnny was watching him patiently, his eyes cow-like; gentle and kind. “Do you think you could stay in my room tonight?”

Johnny laughed, not unkindly, and he smiled down at Donghyuck, sweet as sorbet. “Sure,” He said. “As long as you don’t mind me talking to my mum.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Donghyuck said, hurrying to reassure. His heart twisted in his chest, both pleased and a little embarrassed all at once – he really did feel like a little kid, desperate for comfort. “I won’t understand anyways, I promise its fine. I like the background noise.”

Johnny laughed again. “Okay, okay,” He said, ruffling Donghyuck’s hair. “Go take a shower and get ready for bed. I’ll meet you in your room.” 

Donghyuck cracked a pleased smile, still a little damp round the edges, rain-wet clothes still not dry in the morning, and he swigged the rest of his hot chocolate, lukewarm by now. He ran his tongue over his teeth as he made his way downstairs, sugar-sweet chocolate sticking syrupy against his gums. 

He showered fast, long enough to loosen his muscles up, soothe his ankle and wash the sweat out of his hair, but not long enough to wake any of the others up, the water thrumming through the walls and under the floorboards. He got ready for bed in the heavy humid air of the bathroom and padded back through the dark hallway to his room. Johnny was sat against the headboard of Donghyuck’s bed, cross-legged with his laptop perched on his knees.

“That was quick,” He said as Donghyuck wiggled under the covers next to him, curling tight into his space. The room was dark, only the lamp next to the bed on, and the light was amber, honey gold and warm.

“Tired,” Donghyuck mumbled into his duvet. His eyes were heavy and he let them flutter shut; the backs of his eyelids were stained sunset red, sparkling with fireworks. Johnny hummed an agreement, tugged his fingers real soft through Donghyuck’s still damp hair. The tips of his fingernails brushed over Donghyuck’s scalp and sent tingles skittering and dancing down his spine.

“Do you want me to leave once you’re asleep?” Johnny asked, voice soft.

“No, stay,” Donghyuck said, voice thick with sleep, and then immediately felt a little guilty, a little ashamed for being so clingy. He cracked his eyes open, peered up at Johnny through his eyelashes – he looked fond, edges softened by chiaroscuro. “You don't have to, hyung. I'm sorry.”

Johnny huffed, pinched the tender skin under Donghyuck’s jaw and breathed a laugh as Donghyuck squeaked. “I really meant it when I said you don’t need to apologise earlier,” He said, tone almost chiding. “It’s okay to be upset sometimes. I _want_ to help you feel better.”

Donghyuck’s heart swelled and he felt warm with it, like late summer sun shining on his skin. He shut his eyes and wiggled even closer to Johnny, reached a hand out from under the covers to twist his fingers into Johnny’s jumper. “Okay,” He whispered. The room was quiet and he felt content as he settled in properly, let his breathing slow and his tumbling thoughts ease. He was still warm from his shower and the air around him was thick with the smell of his shampoo, floral and familiar. “Goodnight, hyung.”

“Night, Hyuck,” Johnny said, sotto voce. He was still tugging his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair, as though he were a gentle house cat, purrs rumbling in his throat, and Donghyuck let it soothe him into sleep. 

He could still feel a sad little ache, permeated into the marrow of his bones and the inner chambers of his heart, but it was distant now. For now, he felt safe and warm and cared for. For now, he felt okay. He dozed off, clouds rolling in behind his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Haechan and Johnny are the sweetest brothers and I love them..!!
> 
> Here I am on [twitter](https://twitter.com/fruitglass), if you would like to say hello!


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